


Unwarranted Vacation

by goddity



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Courting Rituals, M/M, body painting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 10:39:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9436556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddity/pseuds/goddity
Summary: Rodimus finally has the perfect plan to get Minimus alone and show him how understanding he can be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpookyPrime](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=SpookyPrime).



Most Cybertronians didn’t retain or remember traditions they had seen on Earth. Mating rites, behavioral attitudes, even slang - most of it seemed generally forgettable and uninteresting after spending millions of years exploring their own culture and the cultures of more advanced species. Most Cybertronians didn’t, that is, but Rodimus had been a bit younger than most during his time on Earth, and, having friends, found it hard to ignore all of the things he saw and experienced. 

Human culture was incredibly and interesting and not too terribly different from Cybertronian culture, when examined from the right perspective. Humans, however, unlike Cybertronians, had holidays for an _infinite_ amount of things; they had holidays for people, they had holidays for the seasons, they had holidays that none of them were able to explain to him! Strangest, though, he felt, was that humans had holidays to celebrate feelings. At first, it had been hard for him to grasp, but the more and more he thought about it, the more Rodimus liked the idea of certain holidays. One that always struck him as unusually interesting was Valentine’s Day.

Humans would use this day, once per year, to take time to celebrate their conjux and shower them in gifts and extra affection; they exchanged gifts, candies, and some spent obscene amounts of money on ritual tokens. The humans he’d spent his time with on Earth seemed… less interested than he imagined most people did, with the fact that it was plastered on billboards and store windows - it just seemed _important_. 

Of course, it was always important to celebrate a partner, but he imagined it did a lot for humans to have a day when they could comfortably celebrate each other after the Rites. Given the general… everything on the ship, he figured that maybe giving the crew some notice, and something to celebrate, could give a decent boost to morale!

Drift wrote the speech with very little persuasion.

“My fellow Cybertronians!” It had been ages since Rodimus had felt so confident speaking in front of his crew. _Finally, some good news._. “I’m thrilled to stand before you today to talk about something other than war and loss. It’s been difficult for all of us, the times have been trying and it’s been hard to find the silver lining among the storm clouds.

“You all deserve a day off, a day to relax, a day to celebrate. So, in seven solar cycles, please take a day to celebrate those around you. Your friends, your partners, conjux and amica alike. We’ll be docking for a few days on a trading planet, anyone who chooses to disembark will be granted a small allowance. Be responsible, think of others while you’re gone, use the time to buy gifts for those who are special to you.”

There were soft murmurs that Rodimus optimistically decided were excited. The idea of a day off probably sounded nice to a crew that… well now that he thought about it, most of them weren’t doing much of anything. Okay, that wasn’t what mattered! What mattered was that there was something to lift their spirits, help them persevere for a bit. With no foreseeable end to their quest, it was probably nice to feel something finite. 

He might have been keeping his motives a bit of a secret, but even better than seeing his crew rejoice was knowing that he could pull some strings to make his own romantic gestures without being noticed. At least, it wouldn’t have been out of place with others celebrating. Knowing his crew like he did, he doubted anyone would notice with all the work Chromedome and Rewind would go through for each other. He didn’t care much if anyone didn’t notice, so long as Ultra Magnus did. 

Of all of the mechs aboard _The Lost Light,_ Magnus seemed to be the least excited about Rodimus’s unprompted declaration of holiday. Now, all Rodimus had to do was completely avoid Ultra Magnus for seven solar cycles without being caught. He’d have to be bouncing between the bar and the deck and his habisuite, and Drift’s habisuite, and probably the medibay, so long as Ratchet wasn’t around to rat him out… 

All he needed was a little time!

 

 

Rodimus naturally found him, several days later, in front of his office door. Magnus cared too much about protocols to disobey practices and wait for him inside, as opposed to the hallway, and looked as cheerful as ever when Rodimus approached.

“I heard your announcement.” Magnus made his opinion on the issue crystal clear, with his usual flare. He was practically seething with fury, which made sense with how long he’d been missing. 

“Look, Magnus, we all kind of need a break. I mean, can you name one good thing that’s happened to the crew since we left Cybertron? Let them have something.”

“You mean let _you_ do something.” Magnus followed behind as Rodimus opened the door, far from satisfied with the conversation. “You’ve been missing for days, Rodimus! You’re aware this sort of sanctioning requires _paperwork_ -”

“Magnus, I’m the _Captain_.” Rodimus fell back into his chair, a little exhausted that it was apparently such an issue. “And they need this! Let’s face the facts, Magnus, _we_ need this.”

Rodimus ignored the heavy hum of his spark when Magnus’s face plates lit up. The third-in-command only looked more upset at the sight of the Captain’s grin.

“Excuse me?”

“Well, I mean, we’re together, right? We haven’t like, done much since you agreed to the whole thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’m… I’m happy you did, I just thought…”

“You thought _what_?”

“I thought you might feel more comfortable with some kind of public affection if other people were doing it too, and people were less likely to pay attention to what we’re doing. I know that you’re not exactly comfortable with us being affectionate or…. I don’t know, ‘casually intimate’ around other people, so I thought that if everyone else is busy focusing on _their_ partners, they won’t really notice us.”

“That’s… exceptionally thoughtful of you, Rodimus.” Magnus found himself caught between two contrasting emotions; fury that Rodimus had acted on impulse and decided that _this_ was what their relationship needed, or the surprising wave of gratitude that Rodimus had actually done something sensible. He found himself at a surprising lack of words, comparatively. It was strange, to think that Rodimus had done something _irresponsible_ but equally responsible. 

“Well, I thought that I could think of someone else, maybe this one time. Can’t make a regular habit of it though.” Rodimus clicked his glossa and winked. Magnus hastily repressed the urge to groan in response, folding his hands behind his back and cupping his wrist in one hand. It was nice to feel like he could relax around Rodimus. It was nice, honestly, to feel like he could relax at all. 

“Tell me then,” Magnus started, a bit more cautious than necessary. “What precisely did you have in mind?”

Rodimus leaned forward, elbow on his desk and faceplate in his servos. “I didn’t think you’d actually go for it so… I didn’t think I’d get this far, Mags.”

“Magnus,” He corrected. “And you went so far as to solidify the event without planning anything?”

“Be a little impulsive!” Rodimus teased, fighting to hide his smile at Magnus’s visible discomfort at the implication. “I mean, why not just go to Swerve’s, or my place, or your place, and just… hang out? Just… be, ya know?”

“I don’t know.” Magnus said, a bit tired of the concept already.

“Fine.” Rodimus pushed himself up, swinging his legs over his desk and unceremoniously knocking holopads Magnus _knew_ were important clattering to the ground. “Then let me lead, and you just follow along with whatever I tell you.”

“You can’t possibly think-”

“One: I’m the captain. Two: you followed me _here_ , Magnus.”

“You keep convincing me to stay.”

Rodimus pressed a hasty kiss to Magnus’s Autobot symbol before slipping past him and through the office door.

“Now I’m convincing you to follow me.” 

With a hefty sigh and a quick inconspicuous smile, Magnus followed. It was much like Rodimus to take the lead in these sort of situations and for once, the ex-Enforcer was willing to let it happen. Each step was a rising temperature to boil his anxiety, but Magnus refused to let it overtake him again. Several cycles had passed since he and Rodimus had agreed to courting, and every instance where the two were alone ended with Magnus getting cold pedes and backing out. 

It was bad enough that the two couldn’t hold hands without Magnus getting lost in stress. Thankfully, medication had been helping with grounding him. Rodimus had been very understanding about the whole situation, surprisingly so. It seemed the Captain himself had been granted some medications himself that had been leveling him out. It certainly explained the lack of racing in the halls as of late…

“Wait, why are we at your habisuite?”

“Do you want _private_ time or _public_ time, Magnus?” Rodimus let the door slide aside, holding his arm over the frame and inviting Magnus in. With reluctance, Magnus stepped inside, surprised to see that Rodimus had most of his things in reasonable order.

“It looks nice.” He said softly, hoping that the statement would come across as a compliment.

“I know you don’t care for the mess, so I picked up a bit. I know it’s not spotless, but I thought it would have been… okay-er.” Rodimus stepped in, letting the door shut and picking up a tarp from the floor before sloppily folding it and putting it on the corner of his recharge slab. “Is it okay?”

“...you really worked hard at this.” Magnus didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but the soft glow in Rodimus’s face plates was a good sign that it hadn’t been taken as an insult. 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too used to me putting work in.” He winked and smiled that _stupid_ smile. Magnus could feel a surge in his spark at the sight of it - that damned smile always got him out of so much trouble…

“So!” Rodimus clapped his servos together, grinning. “I’m gonna need you to get out of that armor.

Every last biolight Magnus had flashed. “ _Excuse me?_ ” 

He _couldn’t_ be daring to imply they’d interface. Just the thought of it made Magnus anxious - more anxious than usual. He didn’t even get a warning to dismiss before his fans clicked on, regrettably audible for Rodimus. 

“I need you to take off your armor for this part. I need you to trust me.”

Magnus sighed, crossing his arms. “I can’t exactly trust you if you won’t tell me what you’re going to do.”

“It’s supposed to be romantic. If at any moment, you want me to stop, you can just ask me to, and I promise you I will. I… I want this to be something special, Magnus.”

When Rodimus was being genuine, it was quite the spectacle. He could have written his own speeches if he sat down and actually thought about them. After centuries of being around the young mech, Magnus had a good enough understanding of him. That meant that, unfortunately, he could tell that Rodimus meant what he said. With a loud and unappealing clattering, Magnus shed his armor, careful to actually put aside the pieces, feeling a bit nude without it given the circumstances. 

“And now what?” Minimus defensively crossed his arms over his chassis, as if he had something to hide. 

“I need you to sit on my berth, facing me.”

The loadbearer sat down on the slab. It was impossible to feel much of anything besides tension, his fans on low and servos tightly grasping the slab on either side of his knees. Rodimus was crafty, respectable but crafty, and more than likely up to something. For once, it was something surprisingly, it was something Minimus wholeheartedly approved of.

Rodimus crossed to a cabinet, pulling several glass containers from it and bringing them to sit at his intended’s pedes. Magnus recognized the jars as pigment, each one bright and pearlized, obviously costing a hefty amount of shanix. 

With a piece of sandpaper in one hand, he began to gently scuff the surface of Minimus’s pedes, working up to his knees before holding out his hand, taking Minimus’s and gently sanding his servos, up his arms to his shoulders. 

The ex-Enforcer tried to keep his fans from clicking on higher when they made eye contact. The effort ended up being meaningless. Rodimus smiled and lightly pressed his lips to the side of Minimus’s helm.

“Don’t forget that you can tell me to stop, okay?”

The smaller mech nodded, letting Rodimus continue his work. He was a little sloppy, which he couldn’t blame the speedster for. It was unlikely that he had done this before and there was no point to make a fuss about it. He was careful to even sand the edges of his plating, so he could be certain to put on a full coat if he desired. 

Rodimus put the used up paper aside, turning his attention to the bottles of paint. 

“Sorry I didn’t tell you it was paint.” Rodimus said as he began uncapping jars, taking the time to arrange them appropriately by their position in the spectrum. “But I wanted you to feel good when you saw them.” 

He started by stirring them, using a different servo to stir each one, smiling as the paint stuck. “But this way, you don’t have to worry about it being all over your armor. No one will know it’s there besides us, and you don’t have to worry about anyone asking about it or you having to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“You…. gave this a lot of thought.”

Rodimus shrugged, hoping to come across as aloof. “You should be comfortable.”

“I don’t want you to feel like I haven’t noticed.”

Rodimus smiled gently, taking a gentle hold on one of Minimus’s ankles to get a better angle to work on his foot, carefully spreading the sampled pigment with his fingertips. While paintbrushes and sponges and airbrushes were traditional tools for this sort of thing, Rodimus couldn’t bring himself to use them. This part of courting had been a big deal in Nyon. Couples would walk the streets, sporting stars and planets and swirls and designs with endless intricacies, and Rodimus felt that it had to be intimate. It was art and art was supposed to be intimate, wasn’t it? 

It was supposed to evoke feelings, it was supposed to create reactions. Being seen publicly, together, always felt like a big deal to Rodimus. He adored the idea of one day having the confidence and the consent to show Minimus how he felt in public. He didn’t mind waiting, though. Art that only Minimus saw was still art that could evoke feelings. Honestly, Rodimus wasn’t sure that he cared about how anyone reacted to it other than Minimus.

Minimus loved watching him work. Rodimus didn’t appear to focus much on the task, just mindlessly dipping fingers into paint and gently working it into the grooves left from the sanding so it stuck better. The designs were abstract, at least from what he could see, and it was… structural. Typically he wasn’t much of an art fan, at least not the visual sort. It was difficult, however, not to appreciate how Rodimus worked. Most of his patterns were circular, and damn clean for the lack of precision in using his fingertips. All of the colors that touched were complimentary, creating a soft gradient as he worked outward, blended circles meshing and curving around each other. 

He’d never had much taste for color or style himself, and it was… nice to see Rodimus take the lead for once. Even if it was privately, between two people. He seemed relaxed too. It was nice to see Rodimus at least acting a little like his old self.

“The colors are okay, right?” Rodimus looked up, somehow having already gotten pigment on his helm. “I probably should have asked before I got started.” Up to his knee was already covered.

“They’re perfect, Rodimus.” The compliment came more easily without the armor. Apparently tearing down physical walls helped to tearing down mental walls as well. 

“I’m gonna work on the other leg. Is it okay that they won’t match? I mean, I can try but there’s not a real guarantee that they’ll actually look the same. I just don’t want it to bother you. I know that kind of stuff bothers you.”

“It’ll be fine. Don’t try to make them the same; anything too similar and the differences are too easy to pick out.”

Rodimus nodded, going instead with thick, broad stripes as he drug his servos down Minimus’s calf. The stripes weren’t perfect, which Minimus would have complained about, but Rodimus hastily started painting horizontal lines over top them, spaced apart by one servo. Entirely engaging in an entirely different way, Minimus decided, finding himself leaning forward to watch Rodimus work. 

Rodimus pressed his thumbs against his kneecaps, painting circles around the dots and then painting stars over the top, using his pinky to connect them into constellations.

“Which are they?” Minimus asked.

“Uhhh,” Rodimus began refreshing the paint on his fingers. “Your left knee is the Eye of Primus, your right is the Eye of Unicron. They’re not especially significant, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of star charts from Nyon. But I remember always being able to pick these two out of the sky.”

“Is that so?” Minimus wanted to ask for more but didn’t want to press. Usually, Rodimus was so talkative, but it appeared that the painting took more of his concentration. 

“Yeah. When I would see them, I would think about how if you looked, they looked like they were mirrored. Like it could have been both of Primus’s eyes, or both of Unicron’s. I just always wondered why someone would have given an eye to each. I sure as slag don’t want Unicron watching me. Come to think of it, I don’t really want Primus watching either.”

He was shocked when he found he couldn’t resist a chuckle. Rodimus’s faceplates brightened immediately, but he refrained from saying anything about the sound. 

The young mech stood, both hands taking route on Minimus’s hips and sending the smaller mechs fans into overdrive.

“No,” was a choked, garbled and static sound that escaped Minimus but immediately had Rodimus withdrawing his hands.

“Sorry! I wasn’t thinking, I didn’t mean anything by it. I know I need to go slow, I wasn’t-”

“It’s fine,” Minimus reassured, nearly as red in the face as Rodimus’s frame, optics and biolights flickering from the sharp flash of charge and anxiety. “I know you didn’t, it’s okay, I promise.”

Rodimus visibly relaxed, biting his lip at the sight of two incredibly noticeable handprints that framed Minimus’s thighs. Even if he couldn’t act on it, even if his fans roared in protest, he could at least admire how well the paint had captured the imprint of his hands. Moreso that the paint would be there for a while. 

“Are you okay?” Rodimus asked gently, sitting beside the mech he hoped to see through courting.

“I’m alright. I just need a minute. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, you know.” Rodimus stuck his fingers together. “I’m not mad.”

“I know.” Minimus sighed, running a hand over the back of his helm. He looked at the speedster, smiling as gently as he could. “Mind starting on my arm? It would help me relax.”

“Not just saying it?”

“Not just saying it.” 

Minimus held out his arm, smiling gently as Rodimus took him by the hand, and began tracing shapes into his armor. He watched the mech work, optics following each circle and line and swerve and dip.

“....am I holding onto you okay?” Rodimus asked gently, noticed that Minimus still had his fans going rather high.

“Hm?”

“You’re not usually comfortable with so much… touching. I wanna make sure I’m doing okay.”

He gathered every last impulsive thought he had, leaning in and lightly pressing his lips to Rodimus’s, smiling as the speedster’s face light up along with every biolight.

“More than okay.”


End file.
